Chapter 11

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“What the hell is going on here?” I begged to be told as I stood in between what was becoming an aggressive disagreement between my father and my teacher.

Mr Sanders seemed to be seething. But also, he seemed to bite his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr Sutherland. Please, just leave the school grounds while you still have some dignity.”

I was actually beginning to admire Mr Sanders’ humility and control.

 As he stood in front of me, dominant and protective, I actually felt myself falling for him even more – but I knew that was a bad sign and that I needed to stop myself before I got obsessed over it.

“Dad, please. Just leave” I asked, trying to seem like I wasn’t begging – but really I was.

Not only was this embarrassing, but he seemed to have some sort of effect on Matt too. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But, either way, Mr Sanders seemed to have willed him to leave.

Hopefully I would never have to see the bastard again. He was more of a sperm donor than a father.

“You need to talk, at all?” Mr Sanders asked me gently.

“I mean, I am supposed to help you, aren’t I? I think I’ve been shirking those responsibilities” he added just as gently.

This man seemed to have some sort of personality disorder. One minute, he could be sort of kind, and the next he could be trying to get me in trouble. I just didn’t get it.

I shook my head in refusal.

I began to walk back to my physics class, as I heard Mr Sanders turn around to me once more and shout, “see you tonight!”

Tonight? What was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t the concert until Friday – and even then he still didn’t know that I was going.

I shook the thought out of my head as I made my way to the stair case up to my physics room.

I hated physics – today we were learning about electromagnetic induction and I hated that most of all.

I walked back up the stairs which appeared to be wet.

I managed to slowly walk up to the last step, but became too confident that I had escaped a fall, when I slipped on the top step and was sent tumbling back down with a horrendous thud.

As each stair thumped into my back, I felt a searing burn, but thankfully, neither my legs nor my back seemed hurt.

But, I did, however stick out my arm to break my fall as I landed on the floor at the bottom.

A loud crack resounded through my ears as a shooting pain suddenly sprang from my left arm.

It immediately caved under me – unable to hold my weight – and I lunged face first into the floor.

Cringing with agony, I picked myself up from the floor cradling my arm as I made my way to the nurse’s office. Holding back tears, I held my breath for the pain was somewhat unbearable.

At first, I was unsure as to whether or not I should have gone – to show her my arm (which was definitely broken) would mean I showed her my scars.

And no doubt my mother would be informed, as would the school. And worst of all, Mr Sanders.

I didn’t want him to think that I was some sort of emotionally unstable teenager, or that I was desperate for any sort of attention.

Either way, it didn’t look good.

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